Telling Turo his Story

A couple of weeks ago I was listening to a story about the boy who survived the plane crash in Libya. They were interviewing one of his doctors and asked him if the boy knew his family was gone. The doctor said the time wasn’t right yet, they were waiting for the boy’s extended family to help tell him. I thought, “what if that were Turo?” and then I realized in a way it already was. He did lose everything and it falls to us to break the news, to help him navigate the why behind his loss and the origin of our family.

Even before this news segment, I had been thinking a lot about when Turo will make sense of who he is and where he comes from. Right now he is so innocent. Life is seemingly simple. I’m sure on a subconscious level there are deeply stored memories. But right now for him - we are his parents, he is our son, his needs are provided for, he is happy. Someday this will all become so much more complex.

We refer to his first family and Ethiopia often but haven’t really delved into the explanation of it all. So, I’ve been working on a book for Turo about his adoption. Something we could look at and talk about together. Trying to make a toddler version of a very intense series of events has been difficult. I quickly wrote about the happier moments of meeting him for the first time and becoming a family. I had countless of photos from which to pull. But it has been harder to type the tough stuff, to look at the handful of early pictures we have of him and his family. How do I tell that piece of the story to a two year old?

There isn’t an easy, soft way to do it. I don’t want to skip over the tragic parts, but I also want to protect him from the sadness that will come with understanding. I think that’s why the book is in limbo on Snapfish. I know I need to finish it. I know that this will serve as a starting point to support and encourage a lifetime of future conversations and questions.

But I don't look forward to having to say those heartbreaking words to my sweet son.